


half doomed and semi-sweet

by solasta



Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Hoe!Will Byers, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Friends With Benefits, Gay Will Byers, Jk Will is 18 and Richie is 19, M/M, Nude Model!Richie Tozier, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Will Byers All Grown Up, because obviously, disclaimer: i have never been in an art class okay i don't know if this is how this works, everything with pennywise never happened, everything with the upside down never happened, mileven is mentioned, reddie is mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-22 22:18:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solasta/pseuds/solasta
Summary: The moment Will enters the studio and spots a figure sporting a fuzzy white robe, a wild head of curls, and a face that makes Will’s heart ache for the boy he’d loved for a large majority of his formative years, Will swears his heart stops.“…Mike?”Or the fic where Richie Tozier models nude for a university art class for some extra cash and effectively gives Will Byers a heart attack in the process.





	1. Prologue

To some extent Will had always considered himself an optimist. Even when things were bad, like, ‘his father walking out on his family, his mother barely making ends meet, and him getting bullied so consistently in school he almost forgot his name wasn’t fairy boy’ _bad_ , Will almost always found a way to look on the bright side. Like yes, his father sucked but at least he had Jonathan, and later, his lovable step-father Hopper. And yes, his mother worked at a supermarket and they couldn’t afford a lot of things growing up, but at least she loved him enough to take care of him and try her best. And yes, some kids at school bullied him, but it was almost because of that ridicule and alienation that Will made some of the best friends he’d ever had.

  
See? Bright side.

  
As far as Will was concerned there always was one as long as you put in the effort to look for it.

  
So, when Will moved away from the only home and friends he’d ever known, by himself to go to art school in Maine Will determinedly looked for the bright side.

  
Honestly, it took a while, but Will is almost sure he’s pinned it down.

  
_A fresh start._

  
See, when you grow up in a small town where everybody knows everybody, and you’ve known literally every person you’ve ever met since probably about kindergarten, there are very limited (read: absolutely no) opportunities to reinvent yourself. Of course, there are exceptions. Like Dustin, for example. Dustin had almost completely reinvented himself after his growth spurt in tenth grade. He got taller and broader, _and_ got his braces off _and_ cut his hair, _and_ joined the football team, and suddenly, he wasn’t Toothless Henderson anymore. He was _Dusty Henderson_ , the guy who half the girls tittered about in the hall and the half the guys were kind of a bit jealous of. He was the guy who actually had a real chance of being prom king, the guy who people always wanted to invite to their parties, the guy who from an outsider’s perspective, didn’t really fit in with The Party anymore but for some inexplicable reason hung out with them anyways. This was a rare and extreme case in which people would look back on the Dustin of the past and laugh and tease and say things like ‘ _wow_ , I can hardly believe that was you.’

  
This is once again, an exception, in which all the embarrassing and nerdy things that Dustin previously did became cute little anecdotes for people to look back on and reference to be cheeky.

  
Will was not apart of that exception.

  
He’s been fairy boy since Troy Keaton crowned him so when they were four and Troy made Will cry by stomping all over his drawings. He was fairy boy in elementary school when he made the mistake of letting his teacher show his drawing of his rainbow ship to the class. He was fairy boy in middle school when all the other boys had buxom feminine celebrity crushes and Will couldn’t name one when put on the spot. And he was fairy boy in high school when he fell in love with his best friend and finally accepted that Troy, as cruel and childish as he was, may have been on to something.

  
And he hasn’t been able to shake the identity even once.

  
Until _now_.

  
+

  
So, on his way to his fresh start, as his brother drove and the blasted The Clash on the stereo, Will wrote a short but concise list on the very back page of his sketchbook and vowed to follow it.

  
At the time, he honestly didn’t expect that simply attempting to follow this list would change more than the perception people had of him. But it did.

 

It changed his life.


	2. 1. Be more confident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easier said than done.

In Will’s opinion, the best thing about going to school for art was the art class was pretty much every class. He no longer had to trudge through gym or sit impatiently through English. He no longer dreaded his homework or procrastinated on his projects and he didn’t even have the urge to entertain the idea of skipping. _Every class_ was his favourite class, every class featured something exciting, and all his teachers were wonderful and talented and _passionate_. Will was honestly still getting used to that, to the fact that he was surrounded by artsy Mr. Clarkes. However, he could admit it was something he could get used to.

So, when Professor Turner ended the previous class with a conspiratory wink and a promise for something interesting their next workshop, Will sincerely felt a jolt of enthusiasm. And, like clockwork, when he woke up on the day of the aforementioned workshop a week later he was _just_ as excited. He went around for most of his morning off with his heart beating too fast and his lips sporadically curling into a smile he couldn’t quite keep at bay, and it seemed that the closer he got to the time of his art workshop the giddier he got.

But the moment Will actually enters the studio and spots a figure sporting a fuzzy white robe, a wild head of curls, and a face that makes Will’s heart ache for the boy he’d loved for a large majority of his formative years, Will swears his heart stops. He swears the _world_ stops.

“…Mike?” Will breathes softly, his eyes glued to the tall as he watches him move to the craft table, pick up a piece a cheese and sniff it curiously. Will blinks once and then twice when that does nothing to make the image before him any more comprehensible, his lips parted in his shock as his eyes drink in every freckle and curl of the boy inexplicably standing a few feet in front of him. As his mind hits a snag his eyes unintentionally wander, his soft hazel eyes inadvertently tracing the v that the robe makes over the bare expanse of Mike’s chest, and that just makes the struggle for coherent thought even harder, because it’s almost impossible to think when his eyes are flicking over the way the material hangs on Mike’s shoulders or the way terrycloth material frames his pale collarbones—

All unproductive thought is halted when someone unceremoniously bumps into him from behind and breaks him out of his reverie. He quickly stutters out an apology to the girl behind him, swallowing thickly as she waves the apology off with a smile and squeezes past him into the classroom. He blinks after her for only a second and even manages to get his feet to follow her lead and begin moving towards one of the many seats the art class has to offer. But it’s not long until his eyes are drifting back towards the lean figure of the mysteriously present Mike Wheeler, to the long line of the other’s neck and the almost elegant cascade of his curls as he tilts his head back and casually tosses grapes past his full lips.

Will swallows so hard it almost hurts and forces himself to look away as he settles into his seat, as he forces his fingers to occupy themselves with setting up his art supplies by his easel. Yet, even as he arranges his paints according to the order rainbow, even as he sharpens his pencils and sets out his charcoals, he can almost feel Mike presence like a physical thing. What is he _doing_ here? And why was he in a _robe_ in the middle of Will’s art class room? Last time Will checked Mike should have been in Chicago, travelling with El and visiting Kali. All it took was a cursory glance around the classroom for Will to gather that his step-sister wasn’t here too, and while it didn’t make sense that Mike was here, it made even _less_ sense that he was here without El.

So, what was going on?

Will licks his dry lips as he stares at the blank paper before him, mind running over all the possibilities and yet still finding nothing that could possibly make logical sense. As he sucks thoughtfully on his bottom lip Mike’s presence is almost like a persistent buzzing in the back of his mind, a weight he can’t shake and a temptation he can’t fight and before Will can stop himself his eyes have flicked back up again, right into the dark eyes of one Mike Wheeler.

Will’s heart skips a beat as their eyes meet, as he looks unflinchingly back at Mike in more shock than anything. The dark-haired male raises a curious brow at him and Will only feels his heart race faster with his slow flush as time seems to slow oddly around them until the sound of the classroom door crashing open startles him into breaking the eye contact.

“Good morning class!” His professor calls out as she enters the small classroom, a mess of papers in her arms as she moves towards her desk with her usual cheerful confidence. “I see you’ve all met our guest for the day.”

Professor Turner sloppily drops her materials onto her desk before she turns to them, her eyes glittering in a way that has Will almost cautious as he looks between her and the now distracted Mike. Mike’s attention has drifted to the crackers decorating the table and Will eyes fall to the other boy’s angular fingers as Mike deftly shuffles the crackers like playing cards in between sliding them distractedly into his mouth. Will catches himself staring at the way Mike’s lips form around the crackers for a few moments longer than would be deemed appropriate before he swallows thickly.

The sound of Professor Turners’ hands clapping together breaks Will out of his trance long enough for him to realize he likely just missed _everything she just said_ because he was too busy _ogling_ Mike Wheeler. She waves her hand in Mike’s direction in a grand dramatic gesture as she beams and theatrically says, “Now, young man, if you would please get us all started.”

Will’s brows furrow at the statement initially, and they’re still puckered in confusion even as his eyes naturally flick to Mike’s movements. Mike gives the professor an amused but silent salute before he casually makes his way over to the foot stool in the middle of the class. Will watches in continued bewilderment as Mike dramatically steps onto the podium, dusts the crumbs off his hands, grips the lapels of the robe and unceremoniously just…drops it.

Will eyes focus on the inane flapping of the robes material as it falls through the air, watching it land in a clumsy heap on the linoleum for a moment before he glances back up, fully absorbs what just happened, and promptly stops breathing.

_Jesus_.

All he can see are the stars that Mike’s freckles make against his pale skin, against _every inch_ of his _exposed_ skin, from his strong shoulders to the firm line of his stomach to his calves. That alone holds his focus for a few moments until he’s distracted by the almost palpable softness of things that Will is quite sure he’s never seen, like Mike’s inner thigh and soft curve of his ass. Then, of course, there is the utter unfathomability of other parts of Mike, not unfathomability that they existed, of course, Will had always known that Mike had a penis, he’d just never thought that he would see it in anything more than humiliating teenage wet dreams and purely accidental glimpes in the locker room. But there it was. Topped by a curly brush of dark hair that almost looked soft to touch.

Will is absolutely sure that he’s never seen this much of anybody in his life, other than the pathetic exception of himself, and he feels almost heady with the suddenness that he was exposed to it all.

And the moment his eyes trail up the body before him and once again meet that pair of dark eyes, the painful pound of his heartbeat in his chest stutters.

Because the boy before him has eyes that are twinkling with a wicked glint something close to smugness as the corner of his lip pulls up into an attractive smirk, a combination of features so alarmingly and alluringly foreign that they force Will to realize that this—this person before him is _not Mike_.

And yet Will still can’t manage to move in his shock, can’t manage to look away as his dry tongue moves to flick over the seam of his lips. The other boy follows the movement with a look so blatant that Will can feel himself tingle with the force of his blush, can feel his breath finally hitch with it and it is that surge of oxygen that prompts Will’s eyes to finally drop to his easel in a small internal panic.

_Very much_ not Mike.

What was _happening_?

Who was this person and why did they look so much like Mike?

Because he wasn’t Mike. Right?

Right.

Will was almost one hundred percent sure he wasn’t Mike. Because… he didn’t _feel_ like Mike, when he looked at him. And because Will is absolutely sure he’s never seen such a… seductive expression on Mike’s face, let alone directed at _him_.

So, he wasn’t Mike.

But who was he?

Will glances around the class subtly for an answer to that question and he’s slightly surprised to see everybody hard at work. His classmates are glancing indifferently at the nude man in the middle of their classroom as they work with charcoals and pencils and paints, and Will is slightly startled to realize that he’s expected to do the same. His mouth works open and closed for an awkward moment as he glances at Professor Turner only to see her working through the mess of papers on her desk with her lips moving silently in thought. Their art workshop is an hour long and a quick glance at the clock tells Will that he has at least fifty minutes left, and it is with slight horror that his eyes flick back to the man in the middle of their art room, their model.

The Mike lookalike is staring distractedly at wall adjacent to him now, silent but subtly fidgeting as the sounds of drawing fill the room. Despite the fact that Will now knows it’s appropriate to stare, that that is what they’re practically here to do, he still finds himself stealthily tracing the hinge of the Mike lookalikes jaw with his eyes, quietly admiring the length of the other’s eyelashes and the otherworldly way his hair frames his face.

Will once again gets caught up in drinking in sight of the male before him and this time, when the other turns to him Will hesitantly stands his ground despite the lightning he feels jolting his gut. He carefully wets his lips and picks up a thin pencil, his eyes never swaying from the curious glint of the pair looking back at him as he inhales subtly and finally puts lead to paper.

+

This Mike’s hair is a little longer, Will acknowledges as he draws it with gentle swoops of his pencil, as he perfects every curl, and details every wave. And the bags under his eyes are darker, Will notes as he smudges the darkness of them in with gentle fingers. His lips are more chapped and ragged, as if they’d been bitten raw, as if they’d been picked at and torn nervously, and Will depicts the dry skin with faint lines. There are light marks on the bridge of his nose, almost symmetrical in their placement and so faint you can barely see them, and Will fleshes them out those light marks with delicate movements. The swell of his biceps is slightly larger than Will remembers Mike’s being, slightly enough that Will wonders if the observation is more of a testament to the length of time it’s been since Will has seen Mike’s bare arms than anything. He carefully outlines them before methodically going about bring them to life.

Honestly, Will has drawn Mike so many times that he almost expected this process to be familiar. But eerily enough it wasn’t. There was something slightly off about it, and every time Will noticed a subtle difference between the boy before him and Mike, _his_ Mike, it was almost as if he was affirming that the two were separate.

But for every difference there was one glaring similarity between the two that could not be ignored: this boy beautiful. Beautiful like Mike has always been beautiful to Will.

But this boy’s beauty strikes Will in a slightly different way.

Will is engrossed in putting this beauty to paper, in doing it justice in he’s interpretation but his breath still catches whenever he glances up to see the other boy’s gaze directed at him. Will doesn’t know what it is, but every time his gaze flicks up to the other’s eyes they’re looking back at him without shame, with a glint of something heated and a bit of something mischievous. Will’s heartbeat races faster each time their eyes meet, and he swears that his blush deepens by the second, but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t back down.

  1. _Be more confident._



Will purses his lips at that thought a moment before he straightens on his stool, momentarily abandoning his sketch in favor of almost boldly looking the other male directly in the eye. The other’s brow arches at that, his gaze a question in itself and Will swears that he can feel his pulse in his fingertips as he nervously taps his pencil against the wood of his easel. He anxiously flicks his tongue over his lips as he allows his eyes to travel down the form of the other slowly, in a suggestive way that teeters between deliberate and hesitant. He tries to infuse the same amount of confidence in his eyes’ path back up to the other’s face, tries to fight the urge of flight in the back of his mind and honestly he’s even surprised with himself when he manages to regain eye contact with the other without chickening out. As he meets those eyes again and he’s met with the dilation of the other’s pupils and the slight flare of his nostrils, Will feels a spike of heat in his stomach intense enough to make him squirm. He’s able to inhale a shaky breath but unable to look away, his piece abandoned in favor of staring back into the raven-haired boy’s eyes with a match in intensity, and it is for the second time that day that the clap of Professor Turner’s hands nearly makes Will jump out of his skin.

“Alright! Pencils down, artisans.” Professor Turner says with an amused curve to her lips before she turns to the Mike lookalike and cordially says, “Thank you, Mr. Tozier for your hard work, you can feel free to put your robe back on now. For the rest of you, please make sure your pieces have your name and student number on them before you submit them to me for evaluation. I repeat, _please_ make sure—”

Will’s eyes unconsciously follow the movements of the other male for another few moments before he catches himself and looks down at his lap, his heart racing as his mind remains fixated on one word.

Tozier.

_Tozier_.

Very much _not Mike_.

Will is both glad he was right and very bewildered all at once, his brows puckered as he wonders how two people can possibly look so alike and _not_ be the same person or related in anyway. Unless they were related? By blood? Maybe—

“Hey.”

Will glances up in surprise at the sound of a voice above him, his green eyes widening at the sight of Tozier, clad in his robe once again and sporting that unnamable glint in his eye paired with his smirk. Will’s mouth goes a bit dry.

“Do you want to…hang out or something?”

And suddenly all of Will’s questions have gone out the window as he stares back at Tozier, as his heart races to the beat of a consistent echo in the back of his mind.

  1. Be more confident
  2. Be more confident.
  3. Be more confident.



“…Or something?” Will finds himself saying quietly, his eyes meeting the boy above him with quiet hesitance and something just as unnamable as the other’s lips pull up into a grin as he shrugs.

“Or something.”

+

“What’s your name?” Will finds himself asking breathlessly against the other’s lips in between dizzying kisses that are hastily resumed sooner than Will can catch his breath. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a gasp of surprise as he’s lifted by his thighs, tightening his legs around the other’s waist as his back is press into one of the shelves of the supply closet. He can’t even focus on the fact that a shelf is jabbing uncomfortably into his spine when those lips travel over his jaw, when they trace a path to the sensitive spot behind Will’s ear and suck hard enough to make Will’s eyelashes flutter. “Y-Your first… name.”

“Well, I’m glad you asked, beautiful, considering you’re going to be screaming my name in the next few minutes.”  He says with a wicked grin that Will can feel against his skin. He nips at Will’s earlobe with absolutely no warning, the bite of the sensation making Will gasp again. “Richie Tozier, at your service, gorgeous. I am here to tend to all of your x-rated needs, from exhibitionistic eye fucks to giving you the orgasm of your life in approximately five minutes. It’s a pleasure. Or, well, it will be.”

And Will huffs a disbelieving laugh at those words despite the flush of his skin, a laugh that quickly morphs into a groan as Richie – _Richie_ – grinds against him firmly, the fluffy fabric of his robe only adding to the friction between them as Richie captures Will’s lips again.

“What’s your name, cutie?” Richie asks after kissing Will so deeply, so filthily that he honestly sees stars.

“Will.” Will replies as he gasps for breath. Will’s hands move from gripping firmly at Richie shoulders to securely anchoring themselves at the back of Richie’s neck as the other grinds into him with just enough pressure to tease Will into moaning at every other breath. “Will Byers.”

And Richie grins so wickedly that Will feels his poor heart skip a beat for the umpteenth time, his eyes crinkling as he smoothly sets Will back down on his feet.

“Well, Willy B, forewarning, I am about to ruin blowjobs for you forever. Nothing will ever compare to this. You’ll either have to fuck me forever or become a goddamn priest.” Richie says as he smoothly slides down Will’s body onto his knees, his hands easily undoing the button and zipper of Will’s pants as he says, “You’re welcome.”

“What? You—…” Will tries to interject, he really does, but the only coherent sound that ends up coming out of his mouth is an awed, “ _Oh_.”

Because Richie’s promise wasn’t empty.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the next chapter now so hopefully I should finish it up sometime soon! let me know what you think so far though


	3. 2. Try to get over Mike Wheeler. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, Richie Tozier was going to be the end of him wasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first of all, I want to thank you all for the amazing response to this fic! I truly wasn't expecting such a positive response and it warmed my little heart to read all of your guys' comments and see all of your kudos and all that, so thank you so much to anyone who's even taken the time to read this fic! I appreciate every single one of you!
> 
> that being said, new tags who dis? please take a look at the new tags and rating friends! i promise there's no smut in this fic (and probably never will be tbh, I am terrible at smut) but sex is discussed and heavily implied so watch out if you're uncomfy with any of that!

  1. Try to get over Mike Wheeler.



In all of Will’s wildest dreams he would have never, ever, expected himself to be doing…Whatever it was he was, with Richie Tozier.

Because this kind of thing just didn’t happen realistically did it? People just didn’t _do_ this? Sure, maybe they did in movies or novels where the protagonist sees a tall dark figure across a room and feels an instant chemistry which prompts the two to fall into bed together, and screw around in supply closets, and empty lecture halls, and each other’s dorm rooms when their dormmates were out, but _real people_ didn’t do this. People like _Will_ didn’t do this.

Except apparently, _he did_.

Because here he was, hiding under Richie’s bed next to a balled up pair of socks and an old sandwich as Richie ‘subtly’ tried to coax his roommate out of the room so that Will could stay over for the third time this week.

And honestly, he’s still a bit unsure how this all happened.

+

After Richie had fulfilled his promise of giving Will the most mind-blowing blowjob of his life – which really, wasn’t as an incredible feat as Richie seemed to think it was, considering that Will has never had a blowjob prior to this – things got… complicated.

Which was understandable, seeing as Will just lost his virginity (does… does oral sex count as a loss of virginity?) to a nude model who he had just learnt the name of about five minutes prior who, on top of it all, just so happened to share a startling resemblance to his best friend.

It was a complicated situation, that really needed to be handled delicately. But as Will bonelessly sank to the floor after having, in Richie’s words ‘the best orgasm ever given in a supply closet’ he really couldn’t even think of where to start.

“God, you are fucking cute, Willerby.” Richie murmurs with a smile as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes glinting in amusement as he sprawls out across from Will. The robe parts obscenely as Richie spreads his legs without concern and Will can feel the heat high on his cheek as he flushes at a combination of the sight, the compliment, and the knowledge of what exactly Richie was wiping the from his lips. “I gotta remember to thank Big Bill for getting me this gig. I mean, who would have fucking thought I’d be able to get paid _and_ screw around without selling my body in a back alley? I finally fucking get the appeal of being a muse. Maybe I should switch careers. You’d be willing to be my sugar daddy, wouldn’t’cha, Willy? In exchange for sex and my full access to my erotic body of course.”

And Will blushes deeply at those words, lips parted but no sound coming out at his complete loss of how to respond.

Richie’s smile widens at Will’s speechlessness, his eyes glinting as he asks, “cat got your tongue? Funny. You didn’t strike me as someone into pussy.” And Richie’s smile widens after those words, his lips pulling back to reveal slightly bucked teeth. “Get it? Cause cats, are, y’know, pussy cats, and a pussy having your tongue—”

“I get it.” Will interrupts quickly just to get Richie to stop attempting to explain, and Richie beams.

“So, he speaks! Nice, it’d suck if I blowed your mind so hard that you were no longer capable of speech, like it’d be an awesome fucking story for _me_ to tell of course, but it’d suck pretty bad for you.” Richie says as he moves to stand, getting to his feet with a few awkward movements. As he gets to his feet he arches his back in a stretch, inadvertently shifting his hips forward in the movement and very effectively giving Will an eyeful of the prominent bulge under the fluffy fabric.

_Oh_.

“U-uh, do you—” Will starts with a stutter that makes Richie glance down at him, the heat of his blush beginning to creep up the back of his neck at the curiosity in the other’s gaze. “D-do you want me to, I mean,” Will makes a clumsy and aborted gesture to Richie’s crotch as he flicks his eyes from that telltale bulge back up to Richie’s dark eyes, already knowing how awkward he probably sounds. “I-I could—”

And Richie’s brows knit together at that, his head tilting for a second before a small beep rings out and cuts off Will’s fumbling. Richie frowns for a second as he reaches into his robe pocket and pulls out his cell phone, scanning the device with quick eyes a moment before his brows raise and, “… _shit_. Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s been real Willard, bitchin really, but I gotta fucking go.” Richie says quickly as he pockets the watch again and moves to wrench open the door of the supply closet, his robe flapping around his legs as he races out of the closet at almost full speed.

Will is blinking after the other in shock for a few moments after he leaves, absolutely bewildered as to what just happened, only to jump as he hears a familiar voice yell, “It was great blowing you!” From what he can only assume to be a considerable distance.

Will’s eyes widen in shock for a moment before he flushes down to his toes and slowly begins to cover his face in absolute embarrassment and hopes that no one grew curious enough by Richie’s words to come looking in the direction he was yelling.

+

Will honestly thinks about Richie more than he should after that.

Or perhaps just enough? What was the appropriate amount of time to think of the guy who gave you your first blowjob and promptly disappeared afterward?

A week? Two?

Every second of every day and night until it’s probably unhealthy?

Well, whatever the appropriate amount of time is, Will is firmly going on three days and nights of thinking about next to nothing but Richie Tozier. Of looking for Richie Tozier as he walks through the halls between classes, of thinking about Richie Tozier when his mind wanders during his lessons, of breathlessly remembering Richie Tozier at night when his skin feels hot and his hands wander. He’s googled Richie Tozier more times than he’d like to admit, pretended to mouse around idly while he glanced over Richie’s abandoned facebook page and his Instagram. He still too shy to actually take the leap and follow him, but he does take a glance through some of Richie’s pictures mostly because he was unable to resist the temptation. He finds out that Richie is a broadcast journalism major and that he’s actually in the year above Will. He finds out that he plays the guitar and actually seemed to be in some type of band. He finds out that he has a tight knit group of friends who seem to feature in almost all of his photos, and seem to tag him in theirs often enough too. And when Will reaches the end of both feeds he ends up somehow simultaneously being embarrassed and hungry for more.

It’s been three consecutive days of nothing but Richie Tozier. Will can’t seem to get the other off of his mind, but the very brief times that he does, he thinks about Mike, which is _never_ a good thing. He already semi constantly has Mike on his mind due to the alerts on his phone, constantly notifying him when Mike texts or posts something on Instagram or snapchat, but that along with the onslaught of Richie Tozier just creates a tangled mess in Will’s mind.

Mike and Richie Tozier.

The similarities between Mike and Richie Tozier.

The _differences_ between Mike and Richie Tozier.

The fact that Richie _looks_ so much like Mike, and whether that makes what they did together weird, or worse, _wrong_.  

If Mike would be weirded out if he found out, if _Richie_ would be weird out when he found out, if _Will_ should be weirded out—

_Was_ Will weirded out?

Will stares up at the ceiling of his dorm room as he reflects on this, as he honestly asks himself if he was weirded out or bothered by this, by _any_ of this.

After a few silent moment of thought Will finds exactly what’s bothering him. He finds exactly what is sticking out in the back of his mind, and rather than answering any of his other questions he simply takes after a deep inhale, pushes onto his feet and gets out of bed in determination to solve it.

Which is exactly how Will ends up visiting pornhub.com for the first time in his life.  

+

Now, it isn’t that Will has never been curious about sex before, or that he’s never heard of the concept of porn before. He has. It’s just that he’d shared a computer with his mother and brother for most of his adolescence, and well, that kind of made even the thought of looking up anything even remotely sexual or gay terrifying.

Of course, that being said, he’s seen snippets of porn. Like the time in eighth grade when Jason Cory got his hands on a playboy, or that time that Dustin accidentally forgot to check what window his laptop was opened to before letting Will borrowed it.

He’s known that it’s been there, this has just been the first time he’s actively pursued it himself.

And it’s… overwhelming to say the least.

There is too much of it and the titles are all embarrassing and the actors are all so loud and dramatic and really, Will nearly gives up the whole idea three times before he stumbles across something that looks reasonably tame and _maybe_ even appealing.

Once he finds one he decides not to push his luck.

He watches the video, studies it really, whenever he’s alone in his dorm. He has never been so glad for the old banged up laptop that his mother let him have when he left for college, but he’s also never been as embarrassed as he was when he thought about what she’d think of him if she knew what he was using it for now.

His headphones are broken, so Will has no choice but to rely on the audio of his computer, but he keeps the volume low so that no one will hear anything through the walls. However, that also means that he has to stay really close to his laptop just to hear anything, and being so close to the screen means that absolutely _nothing_ is left to the imagination.

Which, Will supposes nothing could be in the first place.

It’s two men having sex on camera.

There is only one possible thing that could be more real than _this_.

+

Honestly, Will only meant to use the video to study one thing, to educate himself on _one_ _thing_ , but once he started it, it was nearly impossible to stop. And once he’d finished it, it was almost impossible to forget it, like the video itself was burned behind his retinas and constantly playing on repeat. There was the temptation to watch more, to see more, just to see if there was anything else Will could of missed.

Was this what it was like? Was this what people were doing while Will was stuck in Hawkins afraid to even glance at a boy?

Was this what Richie was doing?

+

After all his looking out, after all his searching, the next time Will saw Richie it was utterly by chance.

Will had quite literally bumped into Richie on his way to the studio, full on slammed into him, and dropped every single one of his art supplies in the process. The horror of all his brushes and charcoals crashing to the floor distracted him from even recognizing the other for a few panicked moments as he scrambled to try and collect everything, and it was only when both he and Richie reached for the same coloured pencil that Will even glanced up.

And just like the first time Will saw Richie’s face, his heart promptly began doing acrobatics.

“Well, hello, there, Willy Wonka.” Richie says with a British accent and a slow smile. His eyes twinkling in amusement as he offers the pencil to Will, with an accented, “fancy seeing you here, ol chap. Do you recognize me? I know it might be a bit difficult, seeing as I’m fully clothed this time around, but I’m sure you couldn’t forget this gorgeous face. But if you’re really having trouble recalling, I can remind you of the size of my dick. There is no mistaking that.”

Will swallows thickly as he looks up at Richie, his heart in his throat for a few second before he continues to scramble to get his things, moving faster in his rush. Richie eyes transition from amused to mildly concerned at Will’s rush, his eyes flicking over Will’s hurried movements.

“Hey, I’m just joking, Wilber, you don’t have to run.” Richie begins to argue, but Will simply gathers up the last of his supplies into his bookbag before quickly tightening a hand around Richie’s wrist and dragging the confused boy into the nearest room without preamble.

Their feet echo slightly as they stumble into the empty lecture hall, and upon entering Will wastes no time before firmly pushing Richie into the first chair he sees, but for a moment after that he is at a loss of how to proceed. He simply looks back into Richie’s startled eyes, his heart racing and his blood singing as he hesitates a thoughtful moment before he closes the distance between them and gets down on his knees. He can practically feel his heart in his throat as he licks his lips nervously and tentatively places his hands on Richie’s knees, gently pushing Richie’s thighs apart almost pointedly.

“Do you…” Will starts hesitantly before he swallows thickly, trying desperately to quiet his racing heart. “Do you have anywhere to go right now?”

“I—?” Richie starts with wide and bewildered eyes, but his sentence is quickly cut off as his eyes shift to follow the hands Will is anxiously stroking up his thighs. Will halts his movements at Richie’s glance, feeling the tips of his ears heat with the surety that he’d done something odd, even if it may have been exactly what he’d seen in the film. “Are you kidding me? My entire schedule is officially canceled.”

“… good.” Will finishes quietly with a slight nod, his breath caught in his throat as his hazel eyes meet Richie’s for a long, charged moment. “… Good.”

It feels as if the air between them has been sucked free of oxygen for those few moments their eyes meet, that electricity from the art room striking them once again. All Will really takes note of is the glance that Richie gives his lips, and the slight brush of his fingers against the hand Will still has on his thigh, before Will is leaning up as much as he can and Richie is simultaneously leaning down to meet him. Richie’s hand is warm as it cradles Will’s jaw, as he gently tilts Will’s head back to deepen the kiss, and Will lets out a sound he didn’t even know he was capable of from the back of his throat. His elbows are on Richie’s knees as he stretches up, as he tries to meet and savour every kiss and he raises a hand to hesitantly weave in Richie’s hair before he can talk himself out of it. Will shudders a sigh as Richie gently bites down on his lower lip in response to the sensation of Will’s fingers gently scratching his scalp, and he genuinely nearly whines as Richie pulls back just enough to speak.

“Fuck, is it my birthday?” Richie mumbles in amusement a moment before he’s sealing his lips over Will’s again, his chapped lips firm. Will murmurs in response to Richie’s words, really unable to do anything more than that with the other’s tongue tracing the seam of his lips, but it is with a shuddering inhale that Will forces himself to pull back.

“No, but I… I wanted to give you something anyways.” Will says carefully as he looks at Richie and drinks in his dark eyes and his mussed curls with a thick swallow of want. He slips down slowly until his knees have touched down on the floor again, until he’s once again level with Richie’s crotch. Again, his hands rub up and down Richie’s thighs in a nervous fidget, and once again Will flushes as Richie’s eyes glance to the movement.

“It… it wasn’t fair last time, that you… that you left without…” Will’s flush deepens as he struggles to get out the words, as his heart races for a few moments before he leans forward and prays to every entity in him that he doesn’t mess this up and send himself to the emergency room. Slowly, carefully, Will takes the zipper of Richie’s pants between his fingers, pulling it down with smoothly before flicking open the other’s button with the same amount of dexterity. He takes the chance of glancing up into Richie’s eyes as his fingers grip the waistband of his boxers, as he slowly pulls those down as well. “…getting to feel good.”

“ _Holy shit_.” Richie breathes under his breath, and Will takes that as a positive sign.

“So, I wanted to make that up to you. And you know, return the favor.” Will explains quietly, and this time it’s Richie’s mouth that opens and closes like a fish.

“Y-you don’t have to. I mean, I didn’t do it just so you would—” Richie tries to explain, but Will gently shakes his head.

“I know. But I want to.” Will clarifies softly, and Richie’s mouth clicks shut at that, an action that somehow manages to be endearing to Will even through the nervous twist of his stomach. “So, let me?”

 +

“ _Best. Fucking. Orgasm. **Ever** given in a lecture hall_!”

Will can’t help but huff a nervous laugh through his nostrils at those words, his eyes shining with mirth as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Richie is still slumped over in the fold out lecture chair. He’s clearly blissed out and giving Will a smile that edges on dopey. Will tries not to feel too proud but it’s really impossible.

“How would you know that? You have no way of knowing what orgasms were had in this lecture hall before us.” Will argues gently, feeling a bit bolder now with Richie’s positive reaction, and Richie arches a brow.

“Sassy, are we?” Richie asks with a hint of surprise colouring his gaze, and Will shrugs easily.

“ _Well_ …” Will replies with an almost playful roll of his eyes. He’s still feeling a bit giddy and over confident from his success, and he has to casts his gaze away from Richie to try to stifle his smile. But of course, that doesn’t seem to deter Richie in the slightest.

“I will never look at this room the same again. I will never look at any lecture hall the same again, actually. You hear that, Willard? You’ve officially ruined any chances of me graduating. From now until forever whenever I’m in one of these seats and supposed to be learning, all I’m going to thinking about is you and that fucking sinful thing you did with your tongue—”

“Oh, my god.” Will whimpers with a flush as he lets his face fall into his palms, the tips of his ears red as he parts his fingers to look at Richie in embarrassed surprise. “How do you just say things like that? Don’t you have any concept of shame?”

“Nope, never heard of her.” Richie says without hesitation and Will immediately thinks back to their previous meeting, to Richie shouting his delight at giving Will a blowjob down a public hallway.

He drops his hands with a slight smile on his flushed face and a quiet, “should have expected as much considering how you decided to say goodbye last time we met. What was it? Nice blowing you?

Richie beams at that, his eyes genuinely bright with mirth as he shrugs. “Hey, I’m not going to apologize for having a good time blowing you, you’re just going to have to grow a pair and get worse at receiving blowjobs if you want me to change my opinion.”

Will actually snorts at that, his eyes crinkling as he full on laughs in open amusement at Richie’s words, momentarily unaware of the quiet pride that comes over Richie’s expression when he does. “You’re ridiculous. I can’t even tell if that’s a compliment.”

“Oh, it’s the highest compliment.” Richie argues passionately, and that only makes Will laugh harder. “Sure, anyone can train themselves to be good at giving blowjobs but to be good at _receiving_ them? A true talent.”

And Will is still shaking with the remnants of his giggles, his lips still pulled up into a smile that almost aches with how wide it was, “well, thank you, then. I’m honoured.”

“You’re welcome.” Richie replies with a firm nod as he continues to look over Will from his slumped over position, his eyes unreadable for a moment before he abruptly moves to sit up, “Hey, Wilke, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

Will blinks in surprise at the question, shifting to right himself as well in a mirror of Richie’s movement. “U-uh, nothing. I… don’t have any plans or anything.”

Richie’s grin is slow at that, his eyes twinkling with something almost rakish that instantly puts Will on edge.  

God, Richie Tozier was going to be the end of him wasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I wrote this chapter out with the goal of it being 3k words and it actually turned out to be nearly 9k so this has been split in half just to not overwhelm you guys with like a massive chapter, but that being said, do you guys prefer longer chapters? Do you like short and sweet ones? Let me know. I'll probably update a bit later in the week just to space things out a bit and get your guys' feedback on how you feel about how the fic is going, so yeah expect to an update around Wednesday maybe?


	4. 2. Try to get over Mike Wheeler. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know this is like five days late and I'm sorry but life got in the way and writers block is an actual heathen, and also you guys asked for longer chapters and I live to serve so here we are! This chapter is literally longer than the first three chapters combined (that wasn't intentional i swear, I don't know how this happened) and it's a wild ride so, sit down, get yourself a snack and get ready folks.

_Wanna come over to my place tomorrow night?_

As Will stands nervously in front of Richie’s door the next day, fidgeting with his hair and his outfit as he tries to breathe evenly, he really questions why he said yes.

But then Richie opens the door, tugs him in with a hand on his wrist, and proceeds to pin him to the doorframe to kiss him senseless.

And he’s left wondering why he questioned the decision in the first place.

“Hi.” Richie breathes between kisses as he slides his hands under Will’s thighs, smoothly lifting him off the ground with what seems to be minimal effort. Will doesn’t know exactly why that’s attractive, but he knows from the telltale swoop of his stomach that it most definitely is.

“Hi.” Will replies almost shyly against the warmth of Richie’s lips, and it’s almost surreal to feel Richie’s lips pulling into a smile against his skin, almost as dizzying as the way that Richie tosses him onto his bed moments later.

+

Losing his virginity was always something that Will thought would be something… earth shattering, or massive. Something that required a large amount of ceremony prior. Not like an actual ceremony, Will would die if losing his virginity meant going to church and standing in front of a crowd as his mom cried in the first row.

No, just… preparation. Flowers. Candle lit dinners maybe. Rose petals on the bed seemed to be a cliché that made sense.

But with Richie Will was beginning to sense that none of that was required. That all of his prior knowledge about losing one’s virginity were just a string of cliched misconceptions. 

The surprising thing is he doesn’t think he quite minds this new reality of it. If all of those other things didn’t matter it meant the most important thing was who you were with right?

Will didn’t think he minded being with Richie.

“That was some fucking inspired fucking. High fucking five, Willby.” Richie pants as he raises a hand with the words, and Will glances tiredly at him before shaking his head with a gentle smile.

“I am not high fiving you after sex, Richie.” Will answers breathlessly, his eyes warm in his amusement, and Richie gives him an offended look.

 “Why not? A high five is a celebratory action, Will. Don’t leave me hanging here.” Richie says with a pointed wave of his hand and Will’s soft smile widens despite himself.

“No, Richie.” Will replies easily as he turns on his side to face Richie and gently pulls the other’s hand down.

Richie pouts at the action, his bottom lip jutted out dramatically as he turns his gaze back to the ceiling with a grumbled, “… Meanie. See if I ever make sweet love to _you_ again.”

Will’s lips twitch as he studies Richie’s profile from his side of the bed, his gaze approaching fond for a second before he leans down and presses a kiss to Richie’s shoulder. He can feel the moment Richie attention is solely focused on him from the way his muscles tense and then relax in quick succession, and he finds his lips curving against the crook of Richie’s neck as he trails his gentle kisses up the column of it. Richie cranes his neck as Will trails his lips all the way up to his ear, his teeth almost playfully catching on Richie’s earlobe as he pulls back. “… I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

Will leans back into his side of the bed with those words, trying to stifle his smile as he pretends to be completely nonchalant about the whole thing. Richie also makes a valiant attempt at being unaffected, pursing his lips and nodding for a few moments before he breaks and pounces on Will so quickly that Will can’t help but laugh.

+

Will’s realized that somehow over the past week he and Richie have formed some sort of a pattern.

Richie texts. Will comes to his door not long after. They fall into each other at a break neck speed. And afterwards they talk. Sometimes that’s between round two and three. Other times it’s between lazy tired kisses before Will leaves.

Today it’s directly after the actual event.

“Hey, you know what I just realized?” Will says between pants for breath, his brows furrowing in a slow realization. Richie glances at him in slight surprise at the question, his own chest heaving with exertion as he shifts to stretch an arm behind Will’s head.

“That the word Mercedes has three ‘e’s in it but they all make different sounds?”

Will’s brows knit closer together at that question as he moves to roll over onto his stomach to look directly into Richie’s expression of feigned sincerity. Richie’s lips are twitching, and his eyes are glittering, so Will knows he isn’t being serious, which honestly, what else could he expect.

“… Okay, no.” Will says immediately with a slight twinkle of amusement in his eyes before he straightens and tries to direct the conversation back on the right path again. “In the lecture hall last week, before I… you know—”

“Suckled Richie junior like a champ, yes.” Richie answers without a moment of hesitation and Will actually leans back with how taken aback he is, unable to help but huff a startled laugh.

“Oh my _god_ , Richie—”

Richie seems to take Will’s laughter as encouragement as he usually does, and his eyes glitter as he shifts onto his side to lean into Will and eagerly asks, “You wanna know what I named your dick?”

“ _No_.” Will says firmly, but he’s smiling around the words even in his attempt at seriousness. “No, absolutely not—”

“Wet Willy.” Richie says proudly, grin bright. “Not because you piss yourself obviously. Cause of the other stuff we do.”

“Oh my god, you are impossible.” Will says as he rubs his hands over his face, and shakes his head, really wondering how anyone has ever managed to have a real conversation with Richie Tozier.

“Impossible to _resist_ , just ask you mom—”

“My point was!” Will interrupts through laughter, his grin wide enough to actually ache, a sensation that happened often enough around Richie that Will was coming to associate it with him. “You asked if it was your birthday, and I said no but… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?” Richie asks in slight confusion, as he begins to chew on his thumbnail, and Will shrugs.

“I don’t know if it was your birthday. Was it?” Will asks gently, and Richie grins around his thumbnail before dropping his hand.

 “No.” Richie says with a quick shake of his head, his lips pulled up into an amused smile, “It’s March 7th.”

“Oh.” Will replies in genuine surprise, his eyes lighting up slightly as he says, “Mine’s March 22nd.”

“Oh, yeah? High five.” Richie says as he raises a hand and Will moves to slap it but hesitates a moment.

“Is this high five for us both being born in March or for us having sex?”

“Why can’t it be both, Will? Why can’t it be _both_?”

+

Will had no idea what he and Richie were doing together. He had no idea what it all meant. The fact was he had never really had a relationship before this, not that whatever he and Richie had was a _relationship_ because, honestly, Will wasn’t even sure of that. He just knows that before Richie all of his kisses had been tinged with disappointment, and all of his meager touches had been unsatisfactory. Before Richie even the thought of boys in a romantic or physical sense gave Will a certain sense of anxiety.

Now, with Richie, he doesn’t have to encounter any of that.

But he still doesn’t know if that makes Richie his boyfriend. Or if they’re even dating.

And honestly Will doesn’t know how to bring the subject up.

+

 “God, you’re like crack.” Richie mumbles against Will’s lips as they stumble further into his dorm, limbs tangled together, and lips connected. Will hums a low sound in reply to Richie’s words as Richie climbs onto his bed backwards, the position allowing Will to smoothly move to straddle the other’s lap. “Or at least what I imagine crack to be like.” Richie continues in between desperate kisses, and Will doesn’t even bother responding this time around as he focuses solely on removing Richie’s pink Hawaiian shirt from his person. “I mean, I haven’t fucking done crack, but I _have_ fucked your mom and I’ve heard it’s just as addictive so—”

And it’s at those words that Will finally pulls back with a disbelieving look and a blink as he asks, “…Richie. What are you talking about?”

Richie’s lips twitch a second into an expression that’s somewhere in between a wince and a smile, “…I was just talking about fucking your mom.”

“…As you’re about to sleep with me?” Will clarifies slowly with an arched brow.

“… yeah.” Richie says almost hesitantly, wincing slightly even through his smile and Will huffs a laugh as he leans further into Richie, as he shakes his head and weaves his fingers into Richie’s dark hair.

His eyes are twinkling as he says, “You need to get your priorities straight, Tozier.”

Richie settles his hands gently on Will’s hips as his lips twist into a smirk, his shoulders shrugging as he unhesitatingly replies, “No can do, everything about me is gay, next question.”

Will laughs despite himself, shaking his head for a moment as Richie’s smile stretches over his own face too before they both pause at a sound from the bathroom. Will frowns and leans back at the sound, listening for a moment before he registers that it’s likely the sound of the blow-dryer. He’s honestly bewildered for a moment, but Richie for his part absolutely freezes. At the second sound from the bathroom Will glances at Richie in bewilderment before blinking at the look of pure horror on Richie’s face.

“You need to hide.” Richie says abruptly, and Will blinks. Once. Twice.

“…I need to _what_?” Will asks in honest confusion, and Richie’s expression twists into something panicked.

“That’s my roommate and you need to hide, you need to hide like now, like right now—” Richie whispers furiously, and Will is completely taken aback by his urgency

“I— _why_?” Will whispers in puzzlement even as he stumbles off of Richie’s lap and onto the floor, but Richie only makes a panicked gesture in answer.

“I just—get under the bed!” Richie says hurriedly, and Will gives the other a look of honest disbelief.

“ _What_?”

“He can’t see you, just, please Willy, get under the bed I will make it up to you, I will _so_ make it up to you, I will literally blow you for the rest of your life—” Richie rambles as he gently begins to help Will get under the bed with a hand anchored to his and Will is honestly still a bit confused as to why this is happening even as he obediently gets down on his knees in preparation to _roll under Richie’s bed_.

“I don’t understand what’s happening right now—” Will honestly admits, and Richie winces in sympathy for a moment before glancing frantically to the bathroom at the sound of the blow dryer cutting off.

“I know, I know, and I will definitely explain, at some point, probably—” Richie hisses in a whisper as he urges Will under once again with a hand on his elbow, and Will tries to be careful not to hit his head as he slides under the bedframe.

“ _Richie_ —” Will hisses in dissatisfaction with the pure ambiguity of that response, but Richie merely gives Will’s hand a gentle squeeze in response

“Please just stay quiet.” Richie whispers finally as he let’s go of Will’s hand, and Will is left under that bed in honest confusion as the he hears what he assumes to be the door to the bathroom open.

“Hey, Eddie Spaghetti. I thought you’d be in class?” Richie says brightly, and Will’s brow furrows at the odd nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to fucking call me that?” An unfamiliar voice that Will immediately assumes to be that of Richie’s elusive roommate replies in annoyance. “My class was cancelled, so I decided to come by and shower before heading to the lab.”

“Oh, cool. Yeah, makes sense. Sure. Uh, so are you going to it now?” Will’s brows knit together tighter at the unfamiliar lilt to Richie’s voice, his lips turning down into a frown as he tries to recognize with that inflection could possibly mean.

“I will in a minute. I just have to get my things.” ‘Eddie Spaghetti’ says loftily as his footsteps pad across the hardwood floor. Will follows the path the other’s pale feet make across the floor from his position under the bed, holding his breath as Richie’s roommate passes his position. “Hey, were you talking to yourself out here? I thought I heard something.”

“Me? O-oh, yeah, you know me. I was just practicing a bit for the broadcast later. Just wanted to make sure the timing of my dick joke was right.” Richie says with humor that even Will can tell is false. It doesn’t sound right, off in some way that Will can’t quite put his finger on.

“… that’s all it was?” Spaghetti asks disbelievingly, and Richie hums in response.

“Yeah, of course. What else could it be?” Richie says casually, before there is a long pause between them both. Will glances between their feet as he tries to quiet his breathing, now completely unable to feel like he’s doing anything but eavesdropping.

“I don’t know.” Spaghetti says gently, so quietly that Will almost doesn’t catch it. “I’m just hoping that if it was something else, you would tell me.”

“Of course, I would, Eds.” Richie says hastily, so hastily that he finally breaks the falsely nonchalant lilt to his voice, finally reveals the uncomfortable awkwardness beneath it. “I--… of course.”

+

After the door finally closes behind ‘Eds’ Will hesitates a beat or two in pure confusion, his brows still puckered, and lips still turned down into a frown when Richie pokes his head under the bed to check on him.

“Coast is clear.” Richie says hesitantly, and Will looks at him thoughtfully for a few moments before extending a hand to him. Richie blinks a second before firmly taking Will’s hand and helping him out from under the bed, his hand ghosting over Will’s side as he helps him stand upright.

Will is silent for a few moments as he thinks, his frown softened slightly as he looks down at their joint hands before looking up at Richie and gently asking, “…Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

And Richie huffs a humorless laugh at that, a hand scrubbing through his curls as he tiredly says, “…not really.”

Will simply nods at that, doing his best to be understanding as he gives Richie’s hand a squeeze and kindly says, “… okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“… what?” Richie asks after a brief pause, his eyes filled with disbelief as he looks down at Will. “That’s… That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.” Will looks up at Richie firmly, hazel eyes finding dark as he bluntly says, “Richie, I know what it’s like to… not know how to come out to someone close to you. And I know what it’s like to have someone close to you who you know won’t react well to you coming out. If you don’t want your roommate to know that we’re sleeping together that’s your choice, and I respect it. I just… want you to know that you can talk to me about this if you want to. I’m a good listener.”

“I--….” Richie actually seems lost for words for a few moments which is an incredibly rare sight, and Will would be amused by the predicament in any other situation. In this particular one he merely continues to firmly stare Richie down, hoping that his sincerity shines through his eyes. “…Yeah, okay. Thanks, Will.”

Will’s smile is slow at Richie’s thanks, his eyes soft as he meets Richie’s and gives the taller boy’s hand a gentle squeeze. “No, problem.”

Richie’s returning smile is so unexpectedly warm that Will gets a bit lost in it for a second, in the way that it’s tinged with a bit of surprise, the way that it was small but still seemed to have the ability to transform the entirety of Richie’s face, in the breathtaking tenderness it brought to his eyes. Will finds himself staring at those eyes for a moment too long before he catches himself and quickly averts his eyes, before promptly changing the subject.

“So.” He starts, as he looks up at Richie with what he hopes is nonchalance. “How about next time we meet at my place? My roommate’s going on a camping trip this weekend.”

“Next time?” Richie asks in surprise, and Will blinks, startled slightly himself.

“… yeah. U-unless you--?” Will starts to stutter in a backtrack, but Richie immediately shakes his head.

“No, no, I—…” Richie licks his chapped lips for a second as he stares down at Will carefully before his lips pull up into a slightly crooked smile and he nods, “I definitely want there to be a next time.”

“Okay.” Will says carefully, his smile is more hesitant this time around but just as genuine. “Then next time.”

+

“So, I like your place.” Richie announces grandly, and Will arches a brow from where his chin is resting on Richie’s bare chest.

“Oh, do you?” Will asks lightly as his lips pull up into a slow smile and Richie nods with a low hum of confirmation as he makes a show of glancing around Will’s dorm.

“Si, senor. There are at least… five prime sex locations in this room, which is a remarkably high number so I’m fuckin’ psyched.” Richie says as his fingers drum on the line of Will’s spine, and Will sputters a laugh of surprise, his brows raising as he slides a hand under his chin.

 “ _Five_? Really?” Will asks in curiosity, and his chin jabs into the back of his hand as he pronounces each word. He can’t help but notice that his palm is flattened directly over Richie’s heart in a way that almost feels intimate with every thud of Richie’s heart, “What are they?”

“Oh, no, I’m not telling.” Richie says as he tucks his chin to look down at Will, his lips pulling up into a grin, “You’re just going to have to find out the good ol’ fashion way. Fuck by fuck.”

Will feels his heart flutter in his chest cavity as he looks into Richie’s eyes and absorbs what those words could entail. Not just the possibility of a continuation of their pattern, but the implication that Richie was sticking around long enough to continue it.

Some part of Will knows that the feelings that thought surges through him are ridiculous, knows that he’s being a bit naïve by even entertaining them.

But still Will can’t keep the tenderness out of his voice as he shifts to pile his other hand underneath his chin as well with a low, “… promise?”

Richie’s brow arches after Will speaks, and he gets that look in his eye that Will is beginning to recognize. A look like Will has somehow pleasantly surprised him just by being himself, a look that Will honestly is beginning to find a bit thrilling. But this time that look transitions into something hesitant, something that Will decides he probably _won’t_ like as soon as he sees it.

“Hey, listen, Will—"

Before Richie can finish his sentence, Will’s cell begins to ring from its place on his bedside table, effectively startling them both. Will blinks at it a moment before he glances back at Richie and, “I can let it ring.”

“Oh, no, don’t… don’t do that, you know what?” Richie licks his lips as he shakes a hand through his curls, slowly sliding to sit up in a way that inadvertently shifts Will off of him. “It’s actually perfect timing cause I’ve gotta take a piss, so. I’ll go give you some privacy.”

“Oh.” Will starts as Richie completely slides out from under him, blinking after the other as he climbs out of bed, finds his boxers, and begins to slip into them. “Okay.”

 Will blinks in bewilderment as Richie flashes him a tight smile, his brow furrowing tightly as the other seems to make a beeline for the bathroom and shut the door hastily behind him. He blinks for a few moments before his phone begins vibrating again and promptly reminds him of exactly what provoked this odd situation. He frowns as he reaches across the sheets to grab his phone off of the bedside table, wrapping his pale fingers around it as he lays back into the warm spot where Richie once was. Mike’s name flashes across the screen accompanied by a candid photo Will snapped of him spread across the background. Will blinks in surprise as his heart jolts in shock, and for a moment he freezes in pure awkwardness as he glances to the bathroom door again.

Should he answer it? Should he let it ring? What was the appropriate etiquette in this situation?

He knows that Richie left him specifically to give him privacy for this call, but he really doubts that Richie thought the call would be with the boy he’d been in love with for years.

Will glances down to the phone in his hand again as he debates the best course of action, feeling the gentle vibration of the device at regular intervals as Mike’s laughing face stares back at him. It doesn’t help that the photo is one of his favorites of Mike, a recent one he’d taken at their collective going away party back in Hawkins just a few days before they all went their separate ways.  Mike’s eyes are crinkled in it and he’s laughing so hard that his image in the photo is slightly blurred due to his movement, and Will was really proud of it at the time, both because it was a surprisingly good photo and because he managed to capture everything he wanted to in that moment. It managed to capture _Mike_.

Will takes a deep breath and sighs it out as he combs his fingers through his hair, sucking his lip between his teeth as he taps the screen of his phone with his thumb in a nervous fidget. When he changed Mike’s profile photo in his phone that night it felt like a good idea, or rather, it felt fitting, and right. It was a photograph that reflected some of the reasons that Will loved Mike so it was only appropriate that that image be used to reflect him in Will’s phone.

But now every time that Mike calls and Will is greeted by the nostalgic image he begins to regret the decision, because being constantly reminded of why you love somebody _isn’t always the best thing_. Whenever Will sees the photo he’s reminded of exactly how he felt when taking it. He’s reminded the strong urge to remember Mike like this, to never forget the way his freckles seemed to stand out a bit more when he smiled that wide or the way his laugh kind of made the whole room seem brighter. He’s reminded of the way Mike’s eyes were a bit bleary with the alcohol they’d snuck in that night but still seemed to shine so bright with warmth whenever they met Will’s, reminded of the way his heart raced whenever they did.

Being reminded of all that at any given time isn’t exactly ideal, especially when you’re lying in your bed while the guy you’re currently… _with_ in some sense of the word relieves himself in your bathroom.

Will sighs once again as he leans back to bang his head against the headboard, watching with a wince as his phone gives one last feeble buzz before the screen goes dark. He winces slightly at missing the call, dropping his hand limply to rest in his lap. He taps his finger against the plastic of his phone case in as he wonders what Mike was calling about in the first place. He didn’t usually call on Saturdays. What if it was something important? What if it was an emergency? What if something had happened with El and Mike wanted to tell Will first, because he was distraught and needed Will to be there for him but also tell his mom and Hopper? What if—

What if he just needed a friend?

Will bangs his head back on the headboard with a quiet pinch of his lips at that thought, takes a moment to think back to all the times Mike had been there for him, that Mike had supported him, that Mike had _always answered the phone_.

Will sighs a moment before raising his phone again and clicking through it and redialing Mike’s number, wiping his sweaty palm on his comforter as he brings the phone back to his ear. Honestly, he’s half sure that the previous call was just a sporadic bum call, that everything was fine, and Mike _didn’t_ need him, but as the dial tone rings out Will still feels his heart doing a little jig in his chest cavity anyways.

When he hears the line pick up his heart jolts in time with it.

 “H-… hello?” Will starts hesitantly, his voice betraying him halfway with an embarrassing crack that makes him wince. He takes a second to glance at the bathroom door again, relieved to see it still shut even as he moves to slide across his bed to get further away from it.

“Hey, Will!” Mike says cheerfully, and… that’s all it takes. Despite everything that’s happened since Will had last seen Mike, since he’d last heard his voice or looked into his eyes, _that’s all it takes_. Will’s heart pounds with purpose in that instant as if hearing Mike Wheeler say his name was all it was waiting for to regain its usual fervor. Which is honestly… troubling. And unfair.

Because for a minute there, Will really thought he was getting over this. Or at least on his way to getting over this.

But here he is, feeling his lips long to twitch into a ghost of a smile at just the cheerfulness in Mike’s voice and feeling his pulse race in a way that it only seemed to when influenced by the youngest Wheeler. It’s almost unnerving how quickly Will’s body falls back into habit, how quickly just the sound of Mike’s voice affects him, because when exactly will he build up a tolerance? When exactly will this stop? Because sure, it was nice now, when the thrill of being in love is there, and the warmth of being in Mike’s presence surrounds him. But following this?

Will knows there isn’t anything but miles of heartache.

And he wants with everything in him to _avoid_ it. But his stupid heart won’t let him.

 “Hey, Mike.” Will replies gently, as he moves to dangle his legs over the edge of his bed, as he turns a bit to turn his back to the bathroom door with a hesitant, “Sorry, I missed your call. I… couldn’t find my phone.” Will says in excuse, already wincing at the lukewarm lie.

“Oh, that’s fine, man, I get it. Thanks for calling back though.” Mike says brightly, and Will feels the weight of guilt settle in his stomach.

“O-of course. I…” Will cuts himself off from saying anything more on the subject, his mind racing for a few moments before he settles on, “I wasn’t expecting you to call today. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine! There’s isn’t anything wrong, I actually wasn’t expecting to call you today either but I’m at a pit stop pretty close to where you’re at so long distance isn’t bad. So, I figured I’d check in. El and Kali kicked me out of the car, so… my choices were you or Plants vs Zombies.” Mike explains casually and Will blinks in surprise at the last half of the sentence.

 “… what?” Will asks with a furrow of his brows, his head tilting in slight confusion and Mike huffs an easy laugh in reaction to the puzzlement in his voice.

“Don’t sound so surprised, obviously I prefer you over Plants vs. Zombies, Will, you’re my best friend.” Mike says, and Will’s lips twitch a second at that as he shakes his head a second before realizing Mike can’t see it.

“No, not that, I… I meant the Kali and El thing.” Will clarifies quietly with a purse of his lips before asking, “Why did they kick you out?”

“Oh, that! Oh, girls are weird, Will.” Mike replies in a tone so affectionate that Will knows he’s not upset about the predicament. “They both just looked at each other and had some… weird telepathic conversation or something and the next thing I know I’m being kicked out so they can _talk_. I don’t even know what it could be about, honestly. I mean, all they’ve done since they’ve reunited is talk so… I really don’t know what’s _left_ to talk about? But El’s really happy to have Kali around though, so I can’t really complain.”

Will finds himself nodding along to Mike’s words as he speaks, a smile creeping over his features the more he goes on. By the time he notices the smile it’s too late to do anything more than feel a pang in his chest at the presence of it before it’s time for him to respond, “I’m… sure it wasn’t that abrupt. You probably just didn’t pick up on the signs. You _are_ known for being pretty oblivious after all.” Mike snorts at Will’s teasing in a way that makes Will’s smile grow, something he bittersweetly acknowledges before softening ever so slightly and adding, “… And… I’m glad. About El. I know how much she missed Kali when she got adopted. She was super sad for a while.” Will murmurs quietly, his eyes getting a bit far off at the thought of El’s quiet cries back then, her subtle pain at the loss of her lost sister.

“… yeah.” Mike answers quietly, his own voice softened with sympathy, and something else Will can’t put his finger on, something reverent and heavy that makes him feel a bit like he’s got a weight resting on his heart. “… a few minutes stuck outside a car is nothing compared to that.” Mike is silent for a moment after that, quiet in nothing else but his breathing before he inhales deeply and says, “Honestly, I’d sit outside for hours in the goddamn _Sahara_ if it meant making her happy enough to… overshadow that pain. You know?”

And for not the first time, and likely not the last, Will kinda feels as if his heart is breaking. It’s not an intense pain. Honestly, at this point Will has become so accustomed to it that it’s more a subtle ache than anything. Like his heart is crumbling slowly to pieces with each word that comes out of Mike’s mouth.

 “… it’s cause you love her.” Will replies quietly after a small stretch of silence, his eyes on his hands as he gently picks at a loose thread on his comforter. Will tugs at the loose threads on the comforter become firmer as he becomes progressively more is frustrated with himself. After all, it’s been years, literal years since he fell for Mike Wheeler and _years_ since Mike started dating El. Any sensible person would have gotten over this lost cause of a first love already. To make things worse, Will _considered himself to be_ a sensible person.

So why in the world did Mike Wheeler still have such a hold on him? What the hell did he do to deserve this? Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds? Wasn’t _distance_ supposed to help things along?

Then why did the fact that Mike was so absolutely gone for his sister still affect him this way?

Why did the very idea of it make him feel like the weight on his chest was getting progressively heavier and heavier and heavier, with every breath he took?

Why was it so hard for him to move on?

Mike huffs a laugh at that, amused to the point that his smile colours his voice during his next words, “… yeah. I guess that’s it. No one told me love made you this stupid though.”

“I think it comes with the territory.” Will replies hoarsely, and he tries to infuse some normalcy into his tone, some level of warmth but it’s hard. It’s all hard, and it’s all been hard since Mike first saw El when Hopper adopted her when she was twelve, since Will had to watch the way his face lit up at just the sight of her. When was it going to get easier? When was it going to hurt less?

Mike’s answering laugh is light, so light and happy, that Will actually feels his eyes sting, which is just great really. The icing on the cake. “Yeah I guess!”

“H-Hey, Mike… Uh,” Will licks his lips as he feels the hot tears pooling in his eyes, puts all of his strength into not crying on the phone with Mike as he tries to stutter through a goodbye. “Th-thanks for calling, but I-I think I’ve got to go. I forgot that I had… a class today, just something for fun,” Will has always been a pretty good liar, was always able to pretend that he was fine, or that he wasn’t completely gone for his close friend but at this moment he can barely choke the words out past the lump in his throat, “I--… I’m going to be late.”

“Oh yeah? Sorry, man, I had no idea, I’ll let you go.” Mike says quickly in reply, a palpable amount of worry and concern in his voice and Will squeezes his eyes shut tightly in an effort to stop his tears from falling.

 “Th-thanks, Mike. I-I’ll talk to you later okay?” Will manages to say with a surprising amount of composure, but he barely waits for an answer before he’s hanging up. His hand tightens painfully on the device for a few moments as he keeps his eyes closed, as he inhales a shaky breath and tries with everything in him to swallow the urge to cry.  

“… so, was that your boyfriend or…?” Will jerks in surprise at the sound of Richie’s voice, his eyes opening in his shock. He just barely stops himself from whipping around to face the other with at the last minute, quickly remembering his eyes are shinning with tears. He simply clenches a fist in the fabric of the comforter instead, hoping that the movement didn’t look as stiff and restrained as it felt.

“Wh-what?” Will chokes out with his back still turned, his heart racing as he becomes hyper aware of the sound of Richie’s footsteps. He clears his throat again in hopes that his voice will sound a bit less incriminating next time he speaks but before he can even think of anything to say, Richie’s beating him to the punch.

“Was that your boyfriend? Or… an ex? Cause, I mean, I wasn’t listening, or anything.” Richie clarifies quickly, as he turns around the corner of Will’s bed and comes into view. Will ducks his head immediately in an attempt to hide his face, but from the split second he got a glance at Richie’s face he realizes his reaction may have been too late. “But I mean… that’s what it sounded like.”

“I wasn’t— … he isn’t—” Will tries to start, but he doesn’t even know where to start. _He isn’t my ex or my boyfriend, really he isn’t anything but my best friend but I’m just the idiot who decided to fall in love with him anyways?_

Yeah, _that_ would go over well.

“… Eddie is my ex.” Richie blurts out suddenly, and Will… doesn’t know what he was expecting Richie to say.

But it most definitely wasn’t that.

He blinks in surprise for a second, the warm tears in his eyes finally falling with the movement, dropping from his eyes to his lap without touching his skin because of his downcast expression. However, Will self-consciously brings a hand up to wipe any evidence of them anyways, his movements sluggish as he tries to fit together what Richie just told him to his brief experience with Eddie just a day before. His brows furrow as he thinks and the wet residue of his tears is still clinging to his eyelashes as he finally glances up at Richie in puzzlement.

 “Eddie your…” Will starts in bewilderment, but his voice breaks halfway through. He clears his throat for a second before licking his lips and trying again, “Eddie, your roommate?”

Richie eyes flick over Will’s face as he looks up at him, and Will stiffens a moment in self-consciousness at the way Richie searches his face. But after a second Richie merely sits by his side, the mattress of Will’s bed shifting slightly under his weight as he directs his gaze to the comforter between them.

“… Yeah.” Richie says quietly as be smooths over the comforter with his palm, the action radiating discomfort for a moment before he clears his throat and meets Will’s eyes. “Last year he was my roommate and boyfriend and well… we filled out the dorm request before we broke up.”

“I…” Will has no idea what to say in this situation, has no idea what he’s expected to say, but he knows how he feels when he sees the uncharacteristic quiet discomfort on Richie’s face. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay. S’not your fault.” Richie says genuinely in reply, his eyes meeting Will’s in a reassuring way that instantly dissipates the awkwardness he was feeling. “I just… I… wanted to let you know that I get how you feel about… whoever you were on the phone with. That I’ve been there. Kinda.”

Will feels something in him go warm at that, at the fact that Richie was willing to tell him something so personal and make himself so uncomfortable just to make Will feel better about a situation he didn’t even know about. Will finds himself looking at Richie in a mix of disbelief and admiration for a few moments before he inhales deeply and musters up what courage he can. Richie, for his part, waits silently and patiently as Will tries to find the words he wants to say.

“His… his name’s Mike.” Will says quietly once he settles on the words he wants to use, “I… have had feelings for him since before I can even remember.” Will admits quietly, and it’s only then that he realizes this is likely the first time he’s said this aloud. That Richie Tozier is the first person he’s ever _confessed_ to. The very thought makes his throat tight. “But he’s straight. And dating my stepsister.”

“Ouch.” Richie says emphatically in reply, and Will sighs. He can feel Richie’s eyes on his profile as he looks sadly down at his lap, and he catches the way that Richie’s voice softens as he continues with, “Sounds heavy.”

“… yeah.” Will says quietly in response as he plays with the comforter in his lap, before looking up at Richie and flashing him a weak, sad smile. Richie’s shoulders slump almost immediately at that, and Will is about to apologize (for _what_ he doesn’t quite know yet) but before he can Richie is speaking.

“Eddie broke up with me out of nowhere.” Richie admits candidly, and Will’s mouth closes silently as he dedicates himself to listening. “I still don’t know exactly what I… did? And… to be honest, I’m still a little afraid to ask? Which is awkward, cause, you know. We live together and shit, so I feel like I’m always avoiding an elephant in the room but times fucking ten. Like I’m avoiding two gigantic horny elephants fucking in the middle of the room to dubstep, you know? Like they’re just going at it, but we’ve just silently agreed not to talk about it. It’s weird as fuck.”

“That sounds…” Despite Richie’s rather provocative imagery Will still finds himself pursing his lips in sympathy as he looks at the other tenderly. “…uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“… you gotta stop saying sorry all the time, Wills.” Richie replies with an almost humorous twist of his lips, but the glint of sadness in his eyes shadows it, “None of that is your fucking fault. Nothing really is.”

And Will knows that mentally. Some part of him knows that Richie is right, but… he still feels sorry over the whole situation. He still feels the soft ache of sympathy, and the insatiable urge to fix it all and repair the cracks in Richie’s smile. The fact that none of this is his fault doesn’t really change any of that.

“Hey, are you… are you over Mike?” Richie asks unexpectedly, and the question startles Will. He opens and closes his mouth an awkward moment as he wonders exactly what would be okay to say in this situation.

Eventually he just settles on the painful truth.

“…I… I don’t know. I don’t…” Will’s lips purse a moment as he thinks back to the conversation he and Mike just had, thinks back to the sting in his eyes and the heaviness of his heart, and even the soft warmth and the unstoppable smiles. “…think I am. But-- … but I _want_ to be. So badly.”

“… Fuck, I feel that.” Richie murmurs quietly as he falls back to lay back on the bed, shaking the mattress slightly with the impact of his weight. He stares tiredly up at the ceiling as he tiredly says, “I… I still have feelings for Eddie. And sometimes I feel like I’m cool… and other times I feel like… I’m _fucked_.” Richie says with a humorless huff of laughter as he moves a hand to scrub over his face. “Like I _can’t_ ignore them and like they’re never going to fucking go away! So, I feel like I can’t move on yet, but I also don’t want to just… stick around in fucking Eddie limbo, you know? I don’t want to just _pine_ , but I… I feel like I’m not ready to date. Like if I fucking date anybody it wouldn’t even be fair to them. Like it’s almost cruel you know? It’s fucked up.”

“… I feel the same way.” Will says quietly in response, and Richie’s eyes flick up to him immediately in an almost hopeful way. “I… I’m trying to get over, Mike. I really am, but…I feel like I’m not getting anywhere. Like I’m making great progress until… until I hear his voice. Or see his face.” Will admits regretfully, and he almost feels guilty admitting this to Richie, of all people. “I… for a while, I honestly never really thought about dating. Not like… I didn’t want to, or I didn’t dream of… dating Mike or some other boy who would like me. It’s just that Hawkins was so small and I was the only gay person I really knew there and I never really saw myself getting out. Now, that I’ve left I… I’ve been thinking about dating a bit more but I…” Will tries to think back a few moments before he swallows thickly in realization, “I never thought about whether my feelings for Mike would make things… fair for anyone else or not. I… it’s never really come to mind.”

And Will feels that guilt within him deepen as he reflects and realizes that while Richie had been graciously considering others, Will and… whatever he had been feeling for Richie had been purely selfish. He wasn’t thinking about Richie and where he wanted whatever they were doing to go, or about how Will even thinking of attempting to take things farther would affect Richie. He wasn’t thinking, period. He was just feeling, just completely surrendering himself to the wild ride that was having a bit of a crush on Richie Tozier, and now he feels naïve for it. Naïve, self-absorbed and a little bit stupid.

That is until Richie breaks the silence that fell over them and quietly utters, “But… but I like… what we’re doing.”

Will blinks a moment before turning twisting his body to look down at Richie where he lays beside him, his gaze searching Richie’s slightly embarrassed expression as Richie seems to gather his courage before continuing, “…I like ‘hanging out’ with you.”

And Will is somehow both shocked and relieved by the statement, his shoulders slumping slightly as the tension slips out of him as he softly replies, “...me too.”

Richie’s grin is beautiful in the way it creeps over his features, gentle and genuine like the sun peaking over the horizon after a particularly bleak night. “Wicked.” With that bright comment Richie moves to push himself upright with two hands anchored into Will’s mattress, leaning back on his hands as he turns to Will with a decisive, “So. I say we keep doing it.”

And Will blinks at Richie’s declaration, momentarily floored by how confident he seems in the decision, by how confident he seems in everything really. Will doesn’t think he could have argued with him if he wanted to.

And he _really_ doesn’t want to.

But—

“But… didn’t you just say… that—?” Will questions hesitantly and Richie shakes his head.

“I know, I know I did, but… it wouldn’t be anything different from what we’re doing now. It wouldn’t be dating, it’d just be… us.” Richie clarifies as he looks searchingly into Will’s eyes, and Will blinks at him a moment, trying to process what that would mean.

That nothing would change. That this, whatever they were doing, wouldn’t change. It’d just be defined.

_It wouldn’t be dating._

Will somehow feels relief at the fact that he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore, that he wouldn’t have to speculate and hypothesize about what the heck was going on between them.

But there’s a certain part of him that feels… hesitant about this. That wonders if it’s a good idea considering the feelings he has caught himself feeling for Richie.

But, what would happen if he refuses this? Richie said himself that he isn’t ready to date anybody, and Will isn’t sure if he is either. If they stop meeting like this what will happen to their relationship? Would they be friends? _Could_ they be friends?

Could Will _take_ being _just friends_ with Richie too?

“… Okay.” Will agrees with a nod after a few minutes of silent thought and Richie’s concerned expression transforms into a grin so wide it makes the corners of Will’s lips creep up as well.

“Okay?” He asks hesitantly, and Will nods once again, an action that makes Richie beam. “Okay. It’s decided. We keep hanging out.” Richie says casually as he ruffles a hand through his curls, and Will nods in agreement again. “Because it’s nice. And we’re fucking adults and we fucking want to.”

“And because we like each other’s company.” Will hesitantly adds, and Richie’s eyebrows raise at the words, his lips pulling into a smile that promises teasing, but Will tries to cut him off before he can even start, “ _Don’t_ get a big head about it—"

“Aw, Willard, you _do_ love me!” Richie interrupts with a hand clutched dramatically over his heart, and Will rolls his eyes even as he smiles, his hand finally moving to wipe the cold tears on his eyelashes only to find that they aren’t there anymore. “I knew you did. From the moment you laid eyes on my dick, I just knew a beautiful relationship was bound to blossom—”

“Oh, my god, Richie, shut up!” Will says even as his shoulders shake in laughter, his face falling into his hands in a playful mockery of horror for a few moments before he smoothly pushes his hair out of his face and turns to look fondly at Richie, only to find Richie looking just as fondly at him.

Will tries to pretend the twist in his gut is curable, that it’ll go away once his body catches up to the mutual agreement they just came to, but as Richie’s eyes glint with mischief he becomes slightly less sure.

“Make me.” Richie says challengingly, and Will feels as if his stomach swoops down to the floor. He hesitates a second, breath caught somewhere in his throat even as he leans into Richie, gravitating closer and closer until he can feel warmth radiating off of Richie’s body and feel his breath ghosting over his lips. His eyes flick over Richie’s face as Richie’s eyes go half lidded, as the Richie leans in to close that last inch of space between their lips just as Will hesitantly leans back the slightest bit.

“Are we… are we sure this is a good idea?” Will asks one last time, and Richie arches a brow, still leaned into Will even as he shrugs.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Richie asks, and Will really doesn’t like the sound of that.

“We’re… not dating.” Will clarifies quietly, and Richie nods in agreement.

“We’re not dating.” And the words are breathed against his skin in a way that makes Will shiver, that makes his gaze dart down to Richie’s lips natively.

“But we’re…” Will’s heart skips a beat as Richie teasingly nudges his nose with his own, his breath catching as he leans into Richie just as Richie teasingly mirrors his earlier actions and leans back. “… this.”

“… yeah.” Richie pauses a moment before leaning back ever so slightly, looking at Will with a new tinge of seriousness to his gaze as he genuinely asks, “Are you sure you’re cool with that?”

And that’s the thing. Will doesn’t know if he is, doesn’t know if this category of relationship is even something he knows how to handle but what he does know is that if he says no, this stops. All of it stops, and he loses Richie Tozier.

And he knows he doesn’t want that.

So instead of answering Will merely closes that last half an inch of space between their lips and shuts Richie up as asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp there you have it folks! The mess that is this relationship! Tell me your thoughts guys, let me know how you feel about everything, let me know how your day went, what you ate for lunch, literally any feedback would be cool! Also, I keep forgetting to mention this but you guys can hmu at willaimbyers on tumblr if you want, I'm pretty much always there too. The next chapter will likely be focusing a bit more on the 'friends' part of this friends with benefits situation, so look forward to that! It might not be back for a bit though because school and I am definitely not making any more scheduling promises after how wonderfully this one went but it's coming soon I promise! Okay I think that's all I have to say :) thanks for reading guys!

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so i literally haven't written fanfic in years, and i genuinely haven't written any fiction in like over a year so if this is horrendous i apologize but i just had too many ryers feelings to keep inside. I have a lot of ideas for this fic but I unfortunately have a bad habit of biting off more than i can chew and getting overwhelmed so i'm going to keep everything to myself until it's written and i can actually post it and just update the tags as i update the chapters.


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